[Center Since I'm awful at opening up I'll confide here.][center Maybe posting publicly will help me.][center Hate-read all you like.] [Center Request access for special commentary/additional thoughts/exclusive information.] [Center Just kidding.] [Center Now scram.]
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[center I have been processing why this song has been repeatedly playing in my head.
I have no regrets, or lost loves. I just don't have me. I never had me. I've tried finding myself in other people. I've honestly never really known myself. I couldn't describe myself if you had to make me. I mean, the obvious is I love cute things. I enjoy spicy foods. I love animals. But I just don't know who I am. These are things I like to surround myself. Who am I? What does it take to find who I am through all of this shitty external conflict? Fuck, I mean it's occupying enough to try and find income. I have tried so many times to make sense as to who I am. I feel like myself when I am around the people I love.
But every time it comes down to me feeling the same. Not a person, just a void who feels through others. I just soak information and spit out what I scramble in my head.
Is that what being someone is?
I know I'm not supposed to focus on my self worth and what I feel gives me "purpose" because we have to figure out what is the core of me.
I don't know??
I'm so happy where I am. Something just feels off. Every time I fail, every time I remember I get no callbacks, every day when I wake up unable to convince myself to care for myself - I think it's just useless.
I know, I have to behave not what I feel. But isn't that just faking it until I make it? Isn't that bad, too?
I do so much to try to find myself and fight the struggles thrown at me and I'm still stuck at square one. I don't know what to do with myself. I don't put anything into this world. It's disheartening. I can't do anything. I feel like I don't belong because I can't get myself to behave the opposite of how I feel.
I wonder what it would be like if magic was real. Y'know? Quinten was depressed because he didn't belong. But Julia did. She was able to play it all so perfectly. Yet, when she found out it existed, she needed it.
I just feel like that [b thing] is out there for me.
Only I'm nowhere near finding it because of the obstacles I put myself through. I've been pushing through it all. Because doing something instead of nothing makes it all better. Once you're in motion you keep going. I've been in motion. I've been trying harder to get better. Look at me.
You can argue it's just growing hormones because technically my body is not down with all it's shitty hormones. I haven't mellowed out. Isn't this the best time to enjoy your life, though?
Any choice just ends with me not being able to do anything that gives my life any spark of meaning.
I can't find magic like Quinten. Magic fucked up his life, it ended him. But he wasn't depressed. I feel like that's the case. I just am not where I am supposed to be.
But how many times of rehabilitating do I have to endure before I get my "Brakebills" break? lmao. I made joke.
There's a similar concept.
Someone spiritual said something close. That depression is not cured with medication, it is because they hold something special and isn't using it. Exercising it.
Maybe I'm just crazy and wanting to make an answer out of anything.
Because I don't have answers.
Fuck all of it
How’ve I been?
I don’t know.
I’ve honestly been occupying my time with small random obsessions but I don’t have anyone to help me develop them.
I keep pushing myself though, because I taught myself editing. So I made it this far, right? I know I can do it.
But then I remembered I had a friend help me. And....
I guess I just feel very lost. And defenseless. I need a teacher and all I have been doing all along is teaching myself. :/ I have discord access for help but rn I just am not feeling up to asking strangers for help.
I feel so disconnected.
The past few days have been fun because I’ve been distracting myself. But now that I’m not focusing my brain on something I’ve realized that I am not getting any better.
I feel so lost.
This week I wasn’t even able to come up with core values for my therapy.
“What core things do you need to be happy?”
Well we already established animal interaction... nature.... upkeep with relationships..... video games...
I don’t think there is much else to me.
I’m so pathetic.
My depression is getting the better of me, and I really hope I can figure it out. Because after all my life struggling-granted it’s not as terrible as others, I’m just tired.
I do have Jurassic quest to look forward to.
I’m super excited for that at least.
Stick boi passed away.
And I feel sick.
Sick because I’m sure a parasite took him.
I had a dream today he was passing.
His little grippies clung so tight to my skin.
He was clinging onto life.
But it took him away.
Don’t mind me falling in love with Outer Worlds. Ugh. Heart eyes.
I had a dream. Strange supernatural beings could posses you at any time the longer you are exposed to the air. The world was freaking out. Your eyes would become white like a boiled egg. And all you would see is yourself trapped in your own personal hell. It’s like the being fed on it. Few people were capable of responding during the “possession” but it wasn’t a high chance you could. You become immobilized. Unaware of your true surroundings. Always seeing yourself stuck in your worst memory.
Among all of it, was a guy who proposed to the person I was in. Their time was running out but their love was so strong. Their love wasn’t going to be defied by the unknown illness that took more and more victims everyday.
Except after his proposal, the couple skipped around town happily. He opened a door and halted. He was 7 again. And his father began yelling at him. “Oh no” he muttered, knowing his time was up. He told his love to run, that she did.
But someone was after them. She tried to hide and she tried to leave. But they caught her.
Me: People gonna hate me no matter what I do, gonna learn to be numb to that shit.
Also me: *in tears* why can’t we be friends about this
Okay but Chucky was doing his best, it’s not his fault he was wired wrong. He does not understand killing is bad. That’s my baby boy leave him alone.
I want the bitches responsible for that dumb ass Witcher MHW cross over quest to fucking trip and land on their faces fuck em raggedy hoes
[coming+soon [center [size15 [#859ecc [b BYAIASASFP
big heart eyes to my one and only tbh
did i post this already? hecc
A big family. Lived in a nice big house. With woods around. About six children they had. The wife and husband had lost what they had. Something tragic had happened. But it wasn’t revealed.
One of the children, let’s call him Max, despises his father. He wore a bunny onsie that was ragged from use. Stained from the stories he’s played. Mother knew he loved it the minute he saw it. It did not belong to him though. But she did not tell him. It saddened her. She could never put that sadness on her little ones. Max had recently done a painting. It was acrylic. Slathered together to the best of his seven year old ability. It showed a tomb labeled “RIP” and a tall figure holding a smaller one. They were approaching the grave, and the smaller one was distraught. The sky was deep red. They stood in a very steep hill which was only indicated by a transparent black line. When the teacher said the piece was confusing, he bursted our in anger. “Can’t you see? This guy knows the little one’s mother is dead, so now he can make the little guy-“ he paused, he didn’t want anyone to [i actually] know it was a depiction of his father and him. So he stuttered, “the little guy is his slave. So now there’s nothing happy in his life anymore.” The teacher brushed this off as a wild imagination. After all, she had seen these kids invent stories that were too bizarre to even question as their mental state being poor. She knew Max loved to make epics. She figured he was caught up in another he had invented. The children in his class, how ever, took it upon themselves to make note of his outburst.
After school, the children played with their loving mother. Who challenged her mighty children. They laughed and wrestled, then snuggled and kissed. The children knew their beautiful mother was happy with them. Except that something haunted her. At bedtime, they would not sleep. They would listen for the raised voices of their parents arguing in the master bedroom.
In private, mother would cradle a bunched up blanket. The smile on her face made it seem like nothing had ever hurt her. She could hear the baby fussing, she would cover it in kisses and tell it many things about her day. Father, however, was deeply upset she clung to the blanket and belongings of their lost son.
[center “It’s been so long, Julia. You need to move on.”]
She ignored her frustrated husband, every time. He would try to talk some sense into her, every night. It did no good. She insisted that this was the only way she could connect with her lost baby boy. She could feel the connection in her stomach. Where he had been.
[center “When I do this, I [b feel] him, B. He grew in me, he was a part of me. You couldn’t possibly understand.” She hugged the bunch close to her breast, to muffle the sound of their voices.
“Julia, he was my son, too. I was there, okay?”]
The children all leaned against the walls of their bedroom, listening for their mother. Ensuring she was safe.
Max sat in his room with his five year old sister, Lily. Who insisted she stay with him at all times. In his pink ragged bunny onesie, curled up in bed. Brewing with resentment towards his father.
The next day after school a few girls from Max’s class had come over to hang out with his older sister. She was 10, so they kept behind her like a small shadows. Claire didn’t mind that they admired her. She just loved company. Lily played with them too. She wanted to be around more girls. Claire wasn’t her preferred company but they were loving towards each other as sisters nonetheless.
Father had come up to the grumpy pink bunny boy, asking what had him so troubled. Max only gave him attitude. To which the girls pointed out:
[center “Max is upset because of a painting he made the other day and the teacher said it wasn’t good.”]
Lily, having seeing the other girls saying what had upset Max, put her two cents in:
[center “Max is mad at you, daddy. Duh.”]
Max glared at his little sister, not expecting her sudden mouthy betrayal. Father sighed and threw his hands up. It was time to have a talk to clear up the situation with Max.
Meanwhile, Mother was in her room. With a readied infant car seat. She shushed the bundles in her arms, rocking as she paced around the room. Father had entered the room and the girls peeked in behind him. He shut the door and sighed upon seeing her tending to a pretend baby.
[center “Julia, please not right now. I just got done talking with Max and-”
“Don’t y’all so loud! Curtis is upset.” She pulled you her shirt, revealing her breast, to feed the baby.]
Father rubbed his temples. He was exhausted from the children, from his hysterical wife, from everything surrounding him. Right when he was on the verge of even mentioning their failing marriage, Mother swatted at him for attention.
[center “B, look!”]
Her nipple was bruised from rough biting. Father was stunned, none of their children was breast feeding. And it was impossible for her to be cheating. One of their kids would have said something by now. He was puzzled.
Soon enough, phased in a tall man, dressed up in suit and tie, with a pinky fuzzy bunny hoodie sticking out from under his coat.
[center He looked up at father, “Hello, Dad.”]
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